


ummm.. welcome to my blog?

by jagzii



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, all the unpacking of emotions, it just wasn't explored as well as I had hoped, its probably going to shift from only blog posts to a third person POV from Lance, maybe alternating? we'll see.., primarily lance POV, unpacking emotions cause lance has nuance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:34:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23394091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jagzii/pseuds/jagzii
Summary: "Ever wondered what it feels like to watch ones expectations and come crashing down? I’ll tell you how it feels in three simple words.It. Fucking. Sucks "Lance starts a blog... thats it.. that's the fic
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys. I've been feeling really out of it lately. And this fic is largely based on a lot of shit that goes on in my own brain at times, which may come through despite my best efforts to stay true to how I see these characters. As always I would love to see all your comments and feel free to leave kudos of you enjoy it.

CHAPTER 1

> **_The First Blog post_ **

Ever wondered what it feels like to watch ones expectations come crashing down? I’ll tell you how it feels in three simple words.

It. Fucking. Sucks

I have been working towards this stupid thing called graduation for three freaking years and have managed to keep myself afloat by sheer will power. My professors sucked and the syllabus itself left much to be desired but I was Lance freaking McClain so off course I pushed and pushed and pushed.

Building a good rapport with professors I honestly couldn’t stand to look at, let alone be nice to without choking on all the anger and resentment which had build up over the course of the years. Making an effort to put effort into assignments which did nothing to help me grow intellectually but at least gave me something to occupy my time.

All the while trying to be a good friend and not letting anyone know how much I wished I could have had the same experiences my friends were having half way across the world. It wasn’t Pidge and Hunk’s fault that I had been fooled by my college's all round good reputation especially for the department I was searching for. It wasn’t their fault that I really didn’t want to have to make my parents spend more money on me, and my education than I had to, despite the fact that they would have if I had insisted.

And it definitely wasn’t their fault that I, literally three months away from graduation couldn’t get myself to get my head out of my ass and actually study. I had been fine.. absolutely fine pushing myself for the past five semesters and suddenly..I just CAN’T.

It doesn’t make any sense. I am good at motivating myself. I am good at pushing for what I want to get; good at getting shit done- from other people and myself. People look at me and think I have all my shit together, and while I no longer think that’s completely true- therapy proved that to me- nor hold myself to those insane standards for someone far beyond my mere twenty years. I just CAN’T. And its driving me insane.

This is Lance McClain. And this is my shitpost blog where quiet frankly i’m probably going to vent and break down… a lot… but hopefully also share the good shit that happens .. fingers crossed.


	2. Chapter 2

> **_I didn’t really think I’d ever write another one_ **

Okay.. I’m back

After sending a good twenty minutes laying on the cold hard ground ( that reference was totally unintentional but now that I’ve realised imma stick with it), listening to Agnes Obel who, let me tell you, is absolutely brilliant- the violin’s, the cello, her voice, the creepy but also not sound… have I mentioned her VOICE?!

Anyway I wasn’t just lying on the ground listening to good music because that’s what I wanted to do with my time, rather I have just spent another day doing, guess what… nothing.

Goddammit.

I really want to scream but considering the fact that I live with my extremely large family in a house which has no soundproof rooms whatsoever, I don’t really think that would be a good idea. And while everyone I knowwould probably point out that I’m not exactly known for my good ideas- which if any of you are reading ( hopefully not) I am a repository of absolutely brilliant ideas- I just don’t want to deal with all the questions I’ll be eventually asked.

See here’s the thing I’m an bit weird when it comes to my emotions. Helping others deal with it theirs is no problem for me. Text me at five in the morning with an SOS and I will call you as soon as I wake up, half asleep and listen to you as you rant, or cry or simply talk. Seriously, I have helped my best friend in the whole wide world, Hunk, who by the way is the literal embodiment of sunshine and rainbows, through numerous crying sessions when he misses home. My other best friend Pidge would also confirm my awesome listening abilities, considering how I listen to her talk about rant about classmates discussing theories I don’t even understand.

My point is, others feelings are easy. My own not so much.

Like I know what i’m feeling, I’m not that detached. But actually dealing with them, working through them, or simply sharing them with others.. ya nope. You see, dear readers ( if you’re out there) bottling your emotions is easy, its so easy that it lulls you into a false sense of normalcy until you realise one day, most likely during one of your crying sessions in the shower (umm.. that’s normal) that well easy doesn’t always mean good.In this this case, easy means you most likely need therapy. Because it turns out not talking about your feelings is fine and all until you find yourself feeling angry, sad, lonely, disappointed all at once; your tangled up mess of emotions projected towards both yourself and the people you care about for not automatically knowing what you’re thinking.

But the worst part about this for me, personally, is that even though I know all this. I know and I’m trying to be better, but its still not easy. Its hard for me to take off my mask of the “ I am calm and composed” mask,the “nothing phases me, I’m on top of my shit" face, or my favourite the “I don’t need you to remind of what I need to do because I’ve already done it” face. That one’s a doozy. I am stressed and anxious and worried about my future and those emotions keep building up.. honestly I think the wave it at its peak right now…and I just want to talk to my parents but…

*sigh*

I think I’m going to stop for today.

See you guys in the next update.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hair pulling and continuous sighing**

I love my parents, I really do. Now I’m not one for making assumptions regarding peoples family life, because god knows some human beings suck, but i’m guessing ya’ll will have some people in your family-of blood or choice- who you love, like really really really love. But sometimes, just sometimes, you want them to just listen to what you're trying to say without giving any input. Not try and give you life lessons, and share anecdotes from their own youth in an attempt to motivate you. But just listen to what you have to say, with their presence alone being a sign of their solidarity. 

I think by now you all know where i’m going with this…I did the thing I was talking about last time. That is, I told my parents that I was stressed and worried and guess what they said … just fucking guess

“ Oh dear.. Why are you stressed? You have nothing to be worried about.” All while looking terribly concerned and worried *insert any image or gif of your ( the readers) choice of a person puling their hair out in frustration* ( and yes I’m telling you to fill in the blanks yourself, I am in the throes of a panic attack, I don’t have time)

I have nothing to be worried about. I have NOTHING to be WORRIED ABOUT !!?!?!?!?!?!

Okay.. I need to calm down. My laptop doesn’t deserve me banging on my keys so hard that I’m afraid one of them is gonna fly off or something.

* taking a deep breath*

Cool.. I'm fine I am totally fine. Fuck. Shit. I’m not supposed to say that. Okay, I'm not fine, but I am about as calm as I can be right now. Moving on, I get how that response can kind off be because of my constant image creation as the ‘perfect child’ but god am I annoyed.

I mean my dad followed that up with an ode to my intelligence and abilities and shit. Which I appreciate. Like I love that my dad always believes in me, he really thinks I can do anything and everything in the world, and my mum ,while less of an optimist, knows I am capable too. Which kid doesn’t want their parents to have that kind of faith in them? But sometimes I just want them to see how messed up I actually am. I want them to pick up on the fraying edges and the cracks which are emerging. And they never do.

I know I have to do a better job communicating but… can’t they see that I am just a twenty year old college student… a lost and confused one at that… Great, just great, now I want a hug… Everyone thinks I’m super tactile.. and I am. But really its only with a few people, like Hunk and Pidge and my niece and nephew because they’re too young and adorable to not cuddle. But hugging my parents has become harder over the years. Asking them for affection has become harder.

All I want is my dad to pat me on the head and tell me random stories until I fall asleep.. but I can’t ask…


	4. Chapter 4

**Guess this is going to be a thing now… yay?**

I think I need to change things up a bit.. my first three posts upon rereads make me seem like a perpetually sad individual . Which I am, but only some of the time. And I feel like I need to introduce you to the other sides of who I am and what make me, well, me. Cause I don’t want you to be shocked when I inevitably tell you something bizarre just because you thought I was your resident metal listening emo. I tried that vibe in high school for about a month, and I can assure you, it wasn’t a very natural look for a 6 ft something, wonderfully tanned Cuban boy. I rocked the eyeliner, because off course I did, but I’m more of a blue colour lover ya know? All that black just wasn’t for me.

Anyway, this is precisely why I am going to tell you of one of the good days. The time my best friends and I decided to sneak up to the roof of our high school in the middle of the night because it seemed like a good idea at the time.

You see Pidge, who I know I’ve mentioned before, is a bit of a genius ( I am not exaggerating the girl if seventeen and already about to graduate… she’s on another level). And this tiny human, because Pidge ,while a bit taller now was about just under 5ft at the time, hacked into some important government agency and .. I won’t go into the nitty gritty details of what she did and what she found out because I really truly don’t understand it, but long story short, she told Hunk and me to get our butts our of bed and to the high school that we attended.

Do you know how difficult it is to sneak out of house, when you’re living with as many siblings and nephews and nieces as I do. It’s almost impossible. But I’m Lance freaking McClain, so in true ninja fashion, run, dashed and rolled my way across my hallway, tip toed down my stairs, convinced my sister Veronica, that ‘yes, she was in fact dreaming’ and smoothly let myself out the front door.

I know. I’m awesome.

Any who, I cycle my way to the school as quickly as I can, only to see Hunk waiting for me at the gate freaking out because, and I quote “ Lance, if my parents find out that I snuck out they’re gonna be worried, but if they fin out that I snuck into my high school they’re gonna be pissed.” Which is a fair enough concern, but one which we ignored in favour of climbing over the gate, and making our way into the building through the janitors entrance -whose lock was broken ages ago and never repaired- and made our way up to the roof where Pidge was waiting.

She was so pissed at us for ‘being late’ I mean excuse you, how can one be late, when one is informed of plans to meet on random roofs in the middle of the night on that same night?

But who am I to argue with Pidge logic, when we saw one the most beautiful meteor showers that night. Like seriously it was incredible, and what was even more amazing was that no one else seemed to know about it. To this day I have no idea why that is.

And since then I have kind of been obsessed with the sky. My feelings towards the sky went form like to love… honestly. My phone is a testament to that love, the number of sky pictures is insane. I don’t know why but that night kind of led me associating the sky with a sort of still beauty which helps calm me down.

And there you have it. The story of how I broke into my high school and discovered a new thing to love.

———

‘ And post’ said Lance, clicking the blue button.


	5. Chapter 5

**Who now?!**

The last couple of days had been weird. You see Lance had been freaking out about his future, college life wasn’t going so great and so he decided to start a blog. It wasn’t anything fancy really, just a space for him to vent. A place where he could offload all his thoughts, his innermost feelings. His anger and frustration.. pain, sadness. His metaphorical void to scream into.

Writing that first post had felt weird and stilted as he kept trying to beautify his language until he decided to just say ‘fuck it’. It was HIS blog, he could do whatever the heck he wanted with it. And so he had just started typing, and typing and typing… and it didn’t feel weird, or awkward, it just felt cathartic.

So he wrote second, and a third and his latest had been one of his favourites namely because the night of the meteor shower was one of his favourite stories to tell and typing it out had brought back all the happy feelings and good vibes associated with it.

Speaking of good vibes, god knows he could do with some right now, as professor Iverson once again went of a tangent about the current generation and their lack of basic comprehension.

“ In our time we were well versed with the classical philosophers like Socrates and Plato. But no off course, none of you could even be bothered to read the original texts…”

Lance can’t help the soft sigh which escapes his mouth as Iverson begins to march up and down the rows of student whilst continuing his tirade. Just another one of the many over the past three years, he doesn’t even have the energy to be annoyed. At this point all Lance wants to do it have Iverson conclude his lecture so he can leave and have his weekly video chat lunch date with Hunk and Pidge.

“ McClain!” Iverson yells suddenly. Oh great. Another fixture in Lance’s life. Iverson’s classic lecture for his least favourite students is about to begin. Fuckkkkk

“Where’s your head at? See here this is the problem…….”

——-

“ I cannot believe he actually expects us to read the originals, who even knows classical greek in todays time Pidge?” Lance practically yells barely managing to keep his voice down, even though the spot he basically commandeered in his first first year of college is almost perfect for secret conversations regarding asshole professors. A confused and lost Lance had somehow managed to stumble upon the perfect spot to just relax, when he had been trying to make his way one of the three college canteens. A small bench, located beneath a tree near the back end of the campus, which promised sunshine in the winter and shade in the summers. It also had the best internet connection of any other point on campus. So basically perfect.

“ Man,” Hunk breaks in, “ that sounds rough”.

The big guy looking genuinely upset at Iverson having dumped a shit ton of work on my head, and my head alone, for no good reason. And while this had been a bit of a constant during his college life, if Lance was being honest, it hasn’t really gotten any easier to deal with. So when Pidge says, “ Just hold out for a bit longer, and if you want, once you’ve graduated, I might find some way to make this guys life miserable for you as a graduation present.” With her classic _run -for -the- hills or -die_ smirk gracing her face. Lance promptly chokes on his drink, laughing.

“ Thanks Pidgeon, you’re the best” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve before catching a glimpse of the time on his watch and realising that his next class is in ten minutes which would have given him a perfectly acceptable buffer on any other day, but off course, today’s class had to be located half way across campus. Which meant that Lance would either have to sprint or risk being late. 

“Shit guys, class in ten. Gotta run. Same time next week?” He asks while frantically packing up his stuff.

A series of “yeahs” “ you bet” and “bye” are exchanged before Lance is running, no scratch that, sprinting. And he’s making pretty good time too- as he should, considering his position asthe star runner on his track team ( not to mention swim team) back in high school.

But see here’s the problem with practically racing your way through throngs of unsuspecting college students.

You never know when you might _run into someone._

**Author's Note:**

> The update schedule for this is likely to be erratic. I might post two chapters a day one day, and nothing the next. Il see if I can have a fixed update schedule and let you know in one of the notes


End file.
